


You can radiate everything you are

by riversdamsel



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, prepare yourself, really this is just one big giant sap fest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:23:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riversdamsel/pseuds/riversdamsel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marriage for royalty is nothing more than a mutual union that is sought out to strengthen a diplomatic bond or to carry on the family line.  Matt doesn’t want marriage, he wants love.</p><p>Medieval-ish AU in which Matt is royalty and Alex is a blacksmith</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rest your weary head and let your heart decide

**Author's Note:**

> Medieval-ish AU in which Matt is Royalty and Alex is a blacksmith. For whatever reason, I sort of envisioned a Moll-age Alex while writing this *shrugs*
> 
> Been working on this fic on the side while writing a spy AU prompt I received, which is taking forever because my muse just sort of ran with the idea lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoy (:
> 
> Work Title from Dig a Pony by the Beatles, chapter title from Play the Game by Queen

Climbing over the back palace wall, Matt lands on the ground with a small  _oomph_  and all the excitement that comes with breaking the rules.  His father, King David, never allows him to step foot out of the palace walls without an escort- apparently it’s  _unseemly_.

  
At thirty years of age, Matt has been breaking that particular rule for years, but today is special.  Today, thanks to a few well spun lies to the steward, he is adventuring to the local blacksmith to pick up the sword he will be presented with at his coronation in just two months.  Should he wait until the ceremony to lay eyes on it?  Probably.  Is he going to?  Not a chance.  
 

Receiving a sword on coronation day has been a tradition passed through centuries, used more as a symbol than an actual weapon.  Holding it in his hands will be akin to obtaining a physical reward of his life’s training to reign over this glorious country.  He would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited to be taking his father’s place- who has recently decided to pass on the crown due to his declining health.  Of course he will assume more responsibility than he ever has before, but he greatly looks forward to being able to serve his people in the best way possible.  The only problem is that he has to be married before he can take the throne.  
 

His father, of course, is a bit disappointed at his son’s lack of marital status, and has been for ten years.  His mother?  Well she had hoped she would have at least six grandchildren by now.  
 

Matt, on the other hand, thinks he would be completely happy being unmarried for the rest of his life.  Somehow, his brain has been filled with the fairytale ideal of love.  Marriage for royalty is nothing more than a mutual union that is sought out to strengthen a diplomatic bond or to carry on the family line.  Matt doesn’t want marriage, he wants love.  
 

His mother constantly tries to reassure him, pressing that great bonds usually develop between the married couple.  If a “great bond” is all Matt can hope for then he would rather not enter into a union at all.  
 

His thoughts have somehow carried him all the way into the middle of town, and he is surprised to find himself standing directly in front of the blacksmith’s shop-  _The Iron Stable._    
 

The Iron Stable is the only blacksmith the Royal Family employs, and as such it has a choice spot in the middle of town and is more than the standard cottage-like atmosphere that most blacksmiths have.  
 

Matt himself has never stepped foot inside, and he is suddenly filled with giddiness as he straightens his clothes- his most plain set, though it is still an incredibly far cry from peasantry- and ruffles his hair once more for good measure.  The last thing he wants is to be recognized as the prince.  
 

The wooden door to the shop opens with a creak as he enters, a small bell giving a tinkling sound that he somehow finds incredibly pleasant and welcoming.  
 

Matt lets out a low whistle as he takes in the interior.  The polished wooden floor in itself is impressive as most shops had cracked stone flooring or just the packed dirt upon which the structure was built.  But even more impressive was the display of work hanging for all to see- one wall showcasing a variety of weapons and tools while the other gave an array of horseshoes, ornaments, decorative pieces and even jewelry.  
 

Approaching what he assumes is a selling counter, Matt looks around for the owner, eager to finally get his hands on his soon-to-be sword.  To his disappointment, the place is empty as far as he can tell, and after waiting as long as his patience allows, he heads back to the entrance.  Upon opening the door, his eyes catch a sign he supposes he missed when first walking in due to his excitement:  
 

 _Back in the Forge. –K_  
 

Ah.  Of course his own lack of observation skills would be the thing to delay his mission. 

 

Closing the door behind him, Matt all but skips down the stone steps and hurries around to the back of the building.  The Forge is massive, an open area that extends from the building and has only a wooden awning for shelter.

   
Work benches line the exterior, tools hanging from ceiling beams where deemed safe.  The large, open furnace crackles and burns brightly, casting a glowing light upon the center of the space where a woman stands over an anvil, hammering away at what looks to be a scorching hot piece of metal.

 

Wait.

 

A woman?

 

Matt freezes in front of one of the work benches, eyes wide and staring as he takes in a dress that looks to be made of heavy fabric, and long, blonde hair pulled back and plaited into a thick braid.  
 

Definitely a woman.  
 

For a long time he stands and does nothing but watch her, his sword the furthest thing from his mind as he watches the muscle in her arm ripple with every downward strike.  The metal hisses in response, sparks flying as the woman shapes it with pure force.  
 

It takes until she has completed her task for her to notice him, glancing up as she wipes sweat from her brow.  Her green eyes meet his, and Matt feels the moment his heart trips from his chest and lands at her feet, completely enamored with everything he sees.  Eyes that hold a level of intelligence and defiance.  Full lips that slowly curve into a smirk as he finds himself unable to quit staring.  Loose curls that frame her face and escape her braid, giving him the impression that her hair must rival that of a lion’s mane.  Skin smudged with dirt and grime that somehow makes her all the more attractive.  And lastly, there’s an air about her that speaks all by itself and tells him all he needs to know, whispering to him that if she has the power to shape and bend metal, his heart will be but goo in her hands.  
 

Walking from behind the anvil, she approaches him with a friendly smile as she wipes her hand on a piece of cloth.  “May I help you?”  
 

“Uh-I-um-”  Bloody hell.  What is wrong with him?  “I’ve been sent by the Royal Family.  Yes.”   
 

Tossing the cloth to rest on her shoulder, she places her hand on her hip, using the other to balance on the workbench as she leans forward, smirk in place.  Her eyes flit over him briefly and wow, is it him or is the weather especially warm today?  
 

“Yes, I can tell,” she answers, then pauses before adding hesitatingly, “Sir.”   
 

His eyes widen, suddenly afraid of having been found out.  “You can?”   
 

She gestures at his form.  “It’s the clothes.  Gotta be working for the Royal Family if you can afford clothes like that.”  
 

“Well  _you’re_   hired by the Royal Family.”  
 

“But it wouldn’t do for me to buy nice clothing only to dirty them up on the job, now would it, Sir?”  
 

“Please,” he says, holding up a hand, “Drop the ‘sir.’”   
 

“Then what shall I call you?”  
 

Oh.  Well.  He hadn’t thought of that.   
 

“Matt,” he answers honestly, somehow unable to bring himself to lie to her about his name.  Hearing her address him as any other would be immensely disheartening.  
  

She hums, eyes narrowing as her calculating gaze sweeps over him once more before commenting, “The same name as the prince.”  
 

He gives a weak smile.  “Popular name, I suppose.”   
 

She only gives another hum in response, briefly stepping into the back of the Forge before returning with a long, slender package.  
 

“And what shall I call you?” He asks hesitantly, paying no attention to the package whatsoever.   
 

She waves her hand, as if brushing off his question as she slides the package toward him.  “It’s no matter.  I imagine this is what you came for, yes?”  
 

Glancing down, he lights up suddenly.  “It’s m- I mean, the prince’s sword?”   
 

She nods.  
 

“May I?”  
 

Another nod.  Carefully, Matt unwraps the packaging, revealing a sword in a leather sheath, complete with a silver inlay.  
 

Gasping quietly, he beams brightly at her before slowly pulling the weapon from its confines.  His breath catches as he stares at the long, elegant silver blade that tapers to a deadly point.  The hilt is black, an intricate silver design etched within it and his family crest resting where it meets the blade.  It is  _beautiful_  and Matt couldn’t possibly be more pleased.   
 

“The prince is going to love it,” Matt says with a wide grin, handing her a small bag of coins that covers her pay.  
 

Giving him a small, pleased smile that makes Matt wonder if she knows exactly who he is, she responds, “I’m pleased to hear it.”  
 

Carefully wrapping it back in the packaging, his heart sinks a bit as he realizes he must get back to the palace before he begins to be missed.  Looking at her one last time, he wishes her a good day and turns to leave.  
 

“Matt,” she calls, and he swivels to look at her hopefully.   
 

For a moment, she only watches him hesitantly.  “My name is Alex.  Kingston.”   
 

Matt grins widely at her.  “Lovely to meet you, Kingston.”   
 

Her answering smile sends warmth spreading from the center of his chest as he turns away from her once more, grinning like a fool and thinking that leaving with her name and a smile is better than any sword.

   
XxX  
 

“Matt!”  His older sister’s sharp tone jolts him from his thoughts.  “Honestly, Matty, did you even listen to a word I said?

   
Matt grins self-deprecatingly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he watches her guiltily.  “Sorry Lor.  Just been distracted recently.”  
 

Laura sighs at him.  “What could possibly be so distracting?”   
 

 _A woman_.   
 

“It’s obviously not about a girl,” Laura continues and Matt flushes instantly, causing his sister to gasp.  
 

“It  _is_  about a girl?!”  She giggles gleefully, making Matt feel a bit ridiculous as she scoots closer to him.  “Tell me all about her.  Oh, is she that pretty little Austrian princess who Mother is bent on you marrying?  It  _would_  be a very smart match.  I’m so glad you’ve finally come to your senses- the coronation is in just  _two months_  and-”   
 

“I never said anything about  _marriage_ , Lor.  And she’s not the Austrian princess.  I don’t know anything about her, really.”  
 

“Well what  _do_  you know about her?”  
 

Matt shrugs.  “I only know that I want to get to know her.”   
 

“How did you meet her?”  
 

He winces.  “Promise not to tell?”  Laura’s gaze hardens in disapproval, but she gives a tiny nod regardless.  
 

“Well the other day I jumped the palace wall and-”   
 

“Matthew!”  
 

He waves her off her interjection to continue, “And she…uh…she’s the blacksmith, actually.”   
 

Laura’s face is one of disbelief.  “She’s a  _blacksmith_?  You can’t possibly be serious about this, Matty.  She’s bourgeoisie!  _Lower_  bourgeoisie at that!”   
 

“I happen to be  _very_  serious about this,” Matt snaps and his sister scoffs.  
 

“How many times have you met her?”   
 

“…Once.”  
 

“How old is she?”  
 

Matt shrugs, “Somewhere around my age.”   
 

“Is she married?”  
 

He deflates, giving another shrug and not at all liking this conversation.   
 

“Any woman of honor, even those in the middle class, would be married by her age.  So either you’re pining after a married woman or a woman who probably has some sordid past.”  
 

“You don’t even  _know_  her, Laura!”  
 

“Neither do you, Matthew!”  
 

“But I’m going to.  I’m going to ask to court her.”   
 

“A  _prince_   courting a  _female blacksmith_?  You’ve gone mad!”   
 

“Why does that matter?  What does  _any of that_  matter?”  
 

“It’s just how it is.”  
 

“Well I don’t care.  And quite frankly, I’m through with this conversation, Laura,” Matt states with a frown, rising from his place on the settee.  
 

His sister presses her lips together tightly before slumping back in her seat, obviously deciding to continue arguing with him another day.   “Where are you going?”

   
“Out.”  
 

XxX  
 

Ten minutes later and he’s once again wearing one of his more simple outfits and hopping over the back palace wall, headed towards the Iron Stable.  
 

While he loves his sister and knows she only wants what is best for him, Matt can’t help but feel a bit bitter.  How does she know that Alex Kingston isn’t the most perfect something-  _someone_ \- he can ever possibly hope to have?

   
She doesn’t.  And while he doesn’t exactly   _know_  either, there’s a pull towards this woman he can’t quite explain.  Like perhaps the reason he’s been so adamantly opposed to courtships and marriage and all that nonsense is because he’s been waiting for  _her_.   
 

It sounds flowery and sappy and utterly ridiculous, but it’s how he feels nonetheless.   
 

A full grin spreads across his face for the first time that day as he approaches the shop, only for it to be wiped away a second later by the sign on the door.  
 

 _Closed on Sundays.  Open at dawn tomorrow.  –K_    
 

Closed on Sundays.  Of course she’s bloody closed on Sunday, what was he thinking?  Idiot.   
 

His disappointment is just beginning to fully sink in when suddenly the shop door opens, startling him.  
 

The breath from his lungs is stolen by the sight of Alex stepping out of her shop, basket on her arm and unaware of his presence as she locks the door.  
 

With her back to him, Matt finds himself staring unabashedly, his tongue suddenly feeling stuck in his throat.  
  

Today her dress is made of a much lighter fabric, and if it wasn’t for the woman wearing it, would be quite simple.  A deep maroon in color, it clings gently to her curves, the hem falling to the tops of her boots and the lace up the back loosely done, offering him small glimpses of skin that immediately brings color to his cheeks.

 

Turning, surprise briefly flashes in her eyes before a wide smile breaks across her face.  “Oh.  Hello, Matt.”

   
Her smile must be contagious because he finds himself returning it without thought, his heart pounding and  _oh_ , he is in so much   _trouble_  because how could he ever resist her, standing there like a vision, long braid pulled over one shoulder and smiling at him as if he is the most important thing in her world in this moment.  
 

Taking an unconscious step forward- a moth drawn to a flame he will more than gladly let engulf him- he finally returns her greeting.  “’Lo Kingston.”  He nods to the sign on her door.  “Thought you were closed today.”  
 

The smile turns into a smirk as she descends the few steps.  “And yet here you stand.”   
 

Immediately, he flushes.  “Um, I just-”  A cough.  “I was just passing by.”   
 

Amusement shines in her eyes, as if she can see right through his lies.  “Well I’m glad you were.  I’m just heading to the market.”  For a moment, she hesitates, briefly worrying her lip before continuing, “Perhaps if you’ve nowhere to be you could join me?”  
 

Smirk now gone, her eyes only briefly meet his before skittering away, tension seeping into her frame as if preparing herself for inevitable rejection.  Which is ridiculous- he thinks it unlikely he could ever deny this woman anything.  
 

Outright beaming, Matt offers his arm.  “I would love nothing more.”   
 

Looking pleasantly surprised, Alex slips her arm through his, the warmth of her at his side comforting in a way he would never be able to verbally describe.  
 

“To answer your earlier question,” she starts as they begin walking, “my shop   _is_  closed today.  But I live just upstairs.”  
 

Matt nods, thinking that he is grateful for it; otherwise he would be spending the rest of the afternoon in the palace, probably getting hounded by his sister.  
 

“Is there a  _Mr._  Kingston I need to be worried about?”  
 

A sly smile graces her lips as she glances up at him.  “And why would you need to be worried about him?”  
 

“Well,” Matt begins, cheeks coloring lightly, “I don’t know about him, but if I saw some other man vying for my wife’s affection, I wouldn’t be at all pleased.”  
 

“You’re vying for my affection?”  Her expression gives him no indication of how she feels about that, her face only one of curiosity.  
 

“Depends.”  Matt grins.  “How am I doing?”   
 

Alex laughs delightedly.  “You hardly know me!”   
 

“Good thing I have the rest of a lifetime to fix that.”   
 

She stills, bringing their leisurely stroll to a halt as she stares at him with wide eyes.  “You’re serious.”  
 

Heart feeling lodged in his throat, he can only bring himself to nod.   
 

Looking away, she represses a smile as she gently tugs on his arm to restart their walking.  “Guess it’s a good thing there’s no Mr. Kingston, then.”  
 

Matt’s heart sings.

   
XxX

 

The market is full of bright colors, loud chattering and music from small street bands.  One moment there’s a whiff of freshly baked bread from a bakery, and the next a strong scent of incense from a potion shop.  A young woman sells flowers from a cart, two men bicker over the price of fruit and children run through the street, ducking and weaving through the dense crowd.

 

Matt himself has never been to the market before, too afraid of being recognized, and he takes it all in with wide eyes and all the enthusiasm of a child. 

 

It’s- it’s- it’s  _magical_.

 

Taking Alex by the hand, he all but pulls her through the street, pointing out one thing or the other with a delighted expression and rushing through the entire market in mere minutes.

 

Once they’ve reached the end, he grins down at Alex, her laughing face and flushed cheeks matching his own.  “It’s like you’ve never been to the market before,” she comments breathlessly, still panting a bit from their rushed tour.

 

Matt feels his ears warm from embarrassment.  “I don’t get out much.”

 

“Well then,” she says, looping her arm back through his as she gives him a smile that nearly causes his heart to stop, “Let’s go back through.  But slower this time, yeah?”

 

This time she leads, tugging him from one vendor to the next, whispering to him which ones all but rob their customers of their money.

 

His face lights up as Alex pulls him with her to a rug vendor, impressive Turkish rugs hanging from the rafters that line the top of the wooden awning.

 

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”  Alex asks as they slowly move to inspect each rug, some having intricately woven patterns while others have a beautiful mix of bright colors.  He can only nod, his fingers lighting running across the fabric to feel the soft textures.

 

Eventually, he pulls his gaze from the rugs to look at Alex, startled to find her already watching him, a small smile gracing her lips.

 

“What?”  He asks, suddenly self-conscious as he feels his embarrassed flush reappear.

 

“Nothing.  It’s just…what are you doing here?  With  _me_?”

 

Matt frowns at her.  “Well I  _thought_  we were having fun, but now you’ve got me worried, Kingston.”

 

Her lips twitch as if she wants to smile.  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

 

Matt sighs, pushing his fingers through his fringe.  “Honest answer?”

 

“Honest answer.”

 

“I’m not sure what I’m doing here.  With you.  It’s a bit frustrating actually.  I just…I look at you and-”  He huffs, cutting himself off and feeling ridiculous, absolutely sure that his cheeks are completely red by now.

 

“And what?”

 

Scratching at his cheek, he stares at the ground for a moment before glancing back up at her.  “I look at you and I just…I just  _feel_.”

 

“Feel what?”

 

Feeling like a complete idiot, he can no longer bring himself to look at her.  “Nothing.  Never mind.  It’s dumb.”

 

“Matt…” She speaks softly, laying a gentle hand on his arm.  “Tell me.”

 

After a moment of staring intently at anywhere but the woman in front of him, he forces himself to meet her gaze.  “I don’t know, I only know that I want to find out.”

 

For a moment, Alex says nothing, watching him with a curious smile.  “You know, you’re either completely full of it or entirely too charming for your own good.”

 

“How much would it take to convince you of the latter?”

 

“Sadly, not much.”

 

Matt beams at her and her answering smile is accompanied by a rather impressive roll of the eyes.

 

“Your turn,” he states as he walks with her away from the rug vendor.

 

Alex arches a brow at him.  “What’s my turn?”

 

“Why are  _you_  here with  _me_?”

 

Alex scoffs at him, as if the answer is obvious and he’s just being dense.  “No girl turns down a man in nice trousers.”

 

Her answer nearly causes him to trip as he gapes at her, laughing once he sees the teasing glint in her eyes.

 

“Are you serious?”

 

She winks at him, flirtatious smirk curving her lips and causing his heart to stutter.  “Only a bit.”

 

The next stall they enter is one full of eccentric curtains, hanging charms and lit candles, the air heavy with incense.  A small table occupies the middle of the space, an old woman decked in bright, odd clothing sitting at one end, her worn hands swiping her deck of tarot cards into a small wooden box.

 

“I’ve been expecting you.”  The woman speaks without looking up, her voice warm and roughed from age. 

 

Matt raises his brows at Alex who only smiles at him in return.  “I’m guessing you’ve never had your fortune told?”

 

Silently he shakes his head, a bit in awe by the feel of magic that seems to inhabit the space.  Alex gestures for him to sit before turning to leave through the curtains, only to be stopped by Matt grabbing her hand.

 

“Stay?”  His voice is but a whisper, his throat tight from a sudden nervousness he doesn’t understand.

 

Giving him a small smile, Alex nods and stands in the corner by the curtains, trying to give him as much space as possible as he seats himself before the fortune teller.

 

The woman grins at him, skin crinkling around her eyes.  “What is it you are seeking, my dear?”

 

Matt swallows heavily, unaware that he was even seeking anything at all, but answering regardless.  “Guidance.”

 

The fortune teller hums, laying her hands on the table, palms up.  “Place your hands in mine and close your eyes.”

 

Feeling a bit silly, he does as instructed, a sudden calm rushing over him the moment his eyes shut, soothed by the tinkling of the hanging charms and the sweet smell of the incense.

 

Time suddenly feels different as he loses sense of it, unable to tell how long silence stretches before the woman finally speaks.  “Your path has many different roads- many different choices you must make, some greater than others and many involving the lives of numerous people.  It is no wonder that what you seek is guidance.”

 

A pause.

 

“However, recently you have found your constant within the chaos of your hectic life.  Most refer to their constant as destiny, the one person, thing or idea that stays with them always and aids in guiding them through life.  Sadly, some never find their constant- be comforted in the fact that you have found yours, but also be cautious.  Those who are lucky enough to find their constant sometimes stray, make wrong decisions and choices that lead to them losing their constant.  Follow your soul, rely on it to lead you in the right direction and guidance will be something you shall always have.”

 

The fortune teller releases his hands and he immediately opens his eyes, squinting against the candle light that suddenly seems too bright.  The woman watches him curiously, eyes briefly flitting to Alex who remains silently in the corner.

 

“Thank you,” is all Matt can manage to get out, throat dry as he places coins on the table to pay for the reading.

 

Alex follows behind him as he steps through the curtains and back out into the street, deeply inhaling the fresh air to clear his mind from the fuzziness that filled him during the reading.  Looping her arm through his, she pulls him to the next vendor- a stand for the baker’s goods- a grin on her face as she begins to ramble on about the best pastry he will ever taste in his life.

 

She doesn’t ask him about the reading the fortune teller gave and he doesn’t bring it up, content to push it aside as they share a rather delicious pastry and continue their leisurely stroll through the market.

 

They browse by stalls selling paintings, fabric, and clay pots.  Music instruments carved from wood.  Custom made riding gear.  Walking sticks and impressively designed canes.  Masks, herbal remedies, and lanterns made from iron and glass.

 

Matt inspects an array of antique jewelry, purchasing and pocketing a small, tarnished locket as Alex debates with a man over the price of vegetables.  Turning to watch her, Matt thinks he could interfere and do the arguing for her, but something about the fierceness in her eyes and the power in her stance warns him that she has it completely under control.

 

Just moments later she approaches him with a basket full of vegetables and a smile on her lips that Matt briefly thinks he would like to steal with his own.  Instead, he returns the grin.  “I think you rather enjoy the arguing, Kingston.”

 

“What gave it away?”

 

“Your incredibly smug grin.”

 

Smacking him lightly on the arm, she laughs.  “I am not  _smug_.”

 

Matt raises his brows and she huffs before laughing once more.  “Fine.  Maybe just a bit.”

 

They make their way back to the Iron Stable as the sun begins to set, casting long shadows and painting everything in a warm, orange light, and Matt finds that he is more than a little disappointed that it has come to an end already.

 

Alex turns to him after unlocking her door, and he catches another glimpse of uncertainty as she smiles softly at him.  “Today was fun.”

 

Matt’s heart lifts.  “Can I see you again?”

 

She sighs happily, leaning slightly on her door as she regards him with another curious, yet pleased smile.  “I don’t understand why you would want to.”

 

He grins.  “Didn’t you hear the lady, Kingston?  You’re my destiny.”

 

XxX

  
Dressed in a fresh set of simple clothing, Matt sighs gustily as he stares forlornly out the window.  It’s raining.  The streets are muddy, the grass has turned to mush, and he knows that he would be drenched in seconds if he were to step outside.

 He had  _plans_.  Well, perhaps calling it a plan was going a bit too far.  More like he was going to go visit Alex and…well he wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen after that, but did it really matter?  All that matters now is that it’s raining and he’s stuck inside this bloody palace.

 

Leaning his forehead against the window pane, Matt lets out another sigh, lightly fogging up the glass.

 

“You’re sulking.” 

 

Laura’s voice causes him to jump, startling him from his brooding thoughts. 

 

Matt gestures out of the window.  “It’s raining.”

 

“So?  Why does that matter?”

 

Suddenly, Matt brightens.  “You’re exactly right, Lor.  It  _doesn’t_  matter.”  Giddiness rises within him and he presses a kiss to his sister’s cheek before all but sprinting down the corridor and down stairs to weave through rooms and halls until he bursts through the back servant door and outside.

 

The rain is cold on his skin, seeping through his clothing as his boots sink slightly in the soft grass.  The vines that cover the back palace wall are slippery as he uses them to climb, but he manages, heaving himself off the other side and onto the ground, mud splashing onto his boots and the lower portion of his trousers.

 

By the time he makes it to the Iron Stable, his hair is matted to his head and his clothes are sticking to his skin, a chill creeping through his bones from the cold, relentless onslaught of rain.

He hears a harsh, rhythmic clank of metal and decides to forego the interior of the shop completely, knowing she must be back in the Forge. 

 

For a moment he only watches her as she pounds away at the metal, finding himself yet again entranced by the force she puts behind a hammer to be able to shape a piece of metal into whatever she wishes.  She is beautiful, brow furrowed in concentration, face dirty with black smudges, and curls escaping its braid to fall into her vision.  Briefly, he thinks that perhaps she was some exotic warrior goddess in another life.

 

Almost without thought he moves toward her, skirting around one of the work benches to enter the dry, warm space that occupies the center of the Forge.  His movement catches her eye and she glances up, gasping when she sees him.  “Matt.”  Her eyes widen as she takes in his appearance.  “What are you doing here?  It’s raining!  You could have caught your death!”

 

Before he has time to respond, she’s setting aside the hammer and grabbing his hand, pulling him into her shop through the back entrance.  He’s surprised to find the back of her store to actually be a small kitchen area that isn’t visible from the front of the shop.  The stone oven crackles with a warm fire, giving the room a comforting glow and immediately beginning to warm his bones.

 

“I just needed to see you,” he finally answers as she hangs a kettle of water over the open oven to begin boiling.

 

“What is  _wrong_  with you?”  She asks as she grabs a wool blanket, stepping into his personal space to drape it around his shoulders.

 

 “What?  Nothing!”

 

 “Obviously  _something_.”  Alex looks up at him, her eyes suspiciously wet.  “You walked all the way here, in the  _freezing_   _rain_  just to see me.”

 

 “’Course I did.  You’re special, Kingston.”  His voice carries a teasing lilt but Alex only frowns at him before turning away to check on the water.

 

 “I’m not special.  You need to realize that right now and just go home.”

 

 His heart falls at her words, her sad tone and the rigid line of her back.  “But-”

 

 “No.”  She cuts him off, turning back to him and he is startled at the hardness in her gaze.  “This isn’t one of those fairytale stories.  I’m not some damsel you get to swoop in and rescue from her sad life.  I’m a lower middle class woman who is far past the marrying age and has a physically taxing job just to stay alive.  There is nothing  _special_  about me.  So get that out of your stubborn head.”

 

 Matt swallows, feeling as if he is shrinking in the wake of her fierce gaze and hard words.  Somehow, he thinks he falls for her a bit more in that moment.

 

 Huffing, her eyes narrow into a glare as frustration seeps into her voice.  “Why are you looking at me like that?”

 

“Because you’re amazing.” 

 

Her shoulders slump.  “You’ve not listened to a word I’ve said.”

 

Matt takes a step toward her.  “I listened.  You’re right- you’re not a damsel.  I’ve never thought you as one.  You’re fierce and stubborn and like to argue over vegetables- no damsel has those qualities.  Not to mention, you’re making this whole wooing job a bit difficult for me, and somehow that only makes me want you more.” 

 

Alex swallows heavily as he takes a step into her personal space and continues speaking.  “As far as you considering yourself over marrying age, I’m extremely grateful for that.  Otherwise I’m sure I would have to deal with a rather large competition.”  Reaching out, he sweeps a stray curl behind her ear, delighted as her eyes briefly flit close at the contact.

 

“And I don’t believe that you work as a blacksmith merely to stay alive,” he states.  “You could have chosen a different job, but you didn’t.  You’re the best of your business and I see the pride you take in your work.  You’re amazing.”  He grins as he semi-repeats her earlier words, “So get that into your stubborn head.”

 

Giving a small sigh, she turns away to take the kettle from over the oven and begins to steep the barley.  “It seems like I was right before.”

 

“About?”

 

Glancing over her shoulder, she gives him a teasing smile.  “You’re entirely too charming for your own good.”

 

Pouring the tea into two pewter mugs, she hands him one.  “This should warm you up.”

 

Matt sips at it gratefully, sitting down with her at the small wooden table that occupies most of the kitchen’s floor space.

 

For a while there is comfortable silence as they both sip at their tea, Alex watching him curiously.

 

“What?”

 

Leaning forward on the table, she props her elbow on the surface and rests her chin in her hand.  “Just thinking.”

 

“About?”

 

“About how badly I want you.”

 

Her face is open and honest, no smirk, flirtatious tone or teasing lilt, just her telling him how she feels.  His heart feels fit to burst, beyond pleased to receive confirmation that he’s not simply chasing after her in vain.

 

“And here I thought you only liked me for my trousers.”

 

“Well,” she smirks, “I’m sure I’d be just as happy with your trousers on the ground.”

 

Matt sputters as she laughs, the sound wrapping comfortingly around his heart as he blushes fiercely.

 

“You’re terrible, Kingston.”

 

“Fortunately for me, you seem to like it.”

 

His only response is a wide grin, because yes, he really does.

 

He stays until their mugs are empty and the rain has stopped, bending to kiss her hand before he returns to the palace.  Her fingers catch his as he straightens, gently pulling him toward her until the gentle swell of her breasts are brushing against his chest.

 

One hand on the side of his face, she leans up to press a kiss to his opposite cheek, sending fire rushing beneath his skin as his eyes briefly close in contentment.  He smiles to see a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she steps away, his heart aching a bit at the thought that she is much more vulnerable than she acts.

 

Once he leaves, the door to her shop closing softly after him, he can’t help but feel as if he has left his heart behind in her hands.  Smiling to himself, he knows he has nothing to worry about- she has the hands of a blacksmith, after all.


	2. The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the comments that have been left- they put quite the ridiculous smile on my face
> 
> Chapter title from Cosmic Love by Florence and the Machine

After their first afternoon tea session, it becomes sort of a daily ritual.  Any day Matt finds an opportunity to escape over the palace wall, he does, the Iron Stable his only destination and not leaving until the setting sun forces him to do so.

 

A certain level of comfortableness has been reached, allowing him to simply walk through her door unannounced, his arrival expected.

 

Glancing up from her spot at the table, Alex smiles at his entrance.  “Matt.”

 

She stands to greet him but quickly grips the edge of the table as she sways unsteadily.  Immediately Matt is at her side, hands gripping her hips to stable her, concern lining his face.  “Alright, Kingston?”

 

Pressing her hand to her forehead, Alex gives a short laugh and waves him off.  “Just been working too hard.  Stop fussing.”

 

Matt frowns at her, his fingers curling into the light material of her dress and trying not to think of how the only thing that separates his hands from her skin is a thin piece of cloth.  His thoughts deepen his frown as he realizes that she’s not wearing the normal, thick, heavy dress she uses while in the Forge.  “But you’ve not been working at all today.”

 

Alex sighs, pressing into him as her fingers grip the collar of his shirt.  “Stop.  I just decided to take today off.”  She smiles up at him.  “And I’m glad you’re here, darling.”

 

The term of endearment sends warmth wrapping around his heart.  “ _Darling_?”

 

He delights to see a light coloring appear on her cheeks.  “It’s rude to mock a girl’s affection, Matthew.”

 

His arms move to wrap around her waist as he grins.  “Not mocking, Kingston.    _Appreciating_.”

 

She only hums in response, slipping her arms under his to splay her hands across his back as she rests her head in the space where his neck meets shoulder.  His eyes flutter closed, a contentment settling over him at her just her mere closeness.

 

Distantly, he thinks his mother would possibly fall over dead if she were here- not only is he in the unaccompanied presence of a woman, but the closeness with which they act speaks of an intimacy that is only acceptable after marriage.

 

Matt swallows heavily at the thought of marriage, thinking that he would marry Alex in less than a heartbeat if he thought she would agree.  Smiling to himself, he thinks that even if she was aware that he is the soon-to-be-king, she would still take the well-deserved time to be convinced.  He could be God himself and that wouldn’t be enough to make her instantly fall to his feet, a quality Matt rather loves because it is  _her_  who is bringing  _him_  to his knees.

 

“I already fixed the tea,” Alex says as she pulls away from him to sit at the table.  For a moment, he briefly mourns the loss of her touch before sitting, his face lighting up at seeing a small cloth bundle resting next to his tea.  “Pastry?”

 

Alex smiles at him over her tea.  “Pastry.”

 

“You spoil me, Kingston.  Pretty sure  _I’m_  the one meant to be courting  _you_.”

 

“So that’s what this is?  You courting me?”

 

“I was hoping that was rather obvious, Kingston.”

 

“Well the last time I was courted I got engaged only to be left for an older, wealthier woman just two days before the wedding.”  She watches him, eyes searching his face as if trying to figure out what makes him any different.

 

From across the table, Matt picks up her hand and presses a light kiss to her knuckles, his heart sinking as he finally understands why she isn’t already taken.  Most men would never even glance in the direction of a woman who has already been engaged but not married, viewing them as tossed away goods.  His chest aches at the thought of Alex ever being thought of as such.

 

“Well I’m glad,” he finally states, earning a frown from the woman sitting across from him.

 

“Glad that I was humiliated?”

 

Matt grins.  “Glad that he was dumb enough to let you go.  It would have been quite the task to try to steal you away from a husband.”

 

Alex presses her lips together, as if trying not to smile at his words.  “I doubt you would have had to do any stealing.”

 

“Oh?”

 

A small smile graces her lips as she shakes her head.  “I imagine I would’ve been quite willing.”

 

Sitting up straighter, he beams as he tugs at the lapels of his jacket.  “That’s because I’m irresistible, Kingston.”

 

She laughs, picking up her tea and shooting him a teasing glance over the rim of her cup.  “Thanks to your trousers.”

 

Together they share the pastry and sit at her tiny table in her tiny kitchen until the sun has lowered behind the trees.  An orange glow filters through the window, dancing with her curls and across her skin as she places their empty tea mugs on her stone bar.  When she turns to him, smile on her face, Matt feels as if his heart has completely stopped, and he idly wonders if perhaps she has taken it to place next to her own.  There would be no better place for it.

 

Suddenly, he finds himself standing before her with no recollection of having moved at all.  His fingers brush a stray curl behind her ear, and his heart feels fit to burst as she leans into his hand, her eyes briefly flitting closed at his touch.

 

Swallowing heavily, his knuckles move from their spot behind her ear to ghost along the line of her jaw as he breathes out, “I’m in love with you.”

 

Alex’s eyes fly open, her face one of surprise, but he takes comfort in the fact that she doesn’t back away.

 

“Don’t say anything,” Matt says, lightly brushing his thumbs across her full lips.  “I just needed you to know.”

 

Looking away from her, he fishes around in the inside of his jacket pocket to pull out the small, heart-shaped locket he purchased weeks ago from the market.  Silently, he drapes the long chain over her head for it to rest around her neck, the heart resting perfectly between her breasts.

 

Alex looks down, inspecting the locket before speaking in a teasing tone that falls a bit flat.  “Giving me your heart, Matthew?”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, Kingston.”

 

Alex looks up at him and he’s surprised to find her eyes a bit wet, but he has very little time to think on it before her hands are fisting around the lapels of his jacket and yanking him down until his lips meet hers.

 

After a moment of frozen shock, he grips her waist tightly to pull her flush against him, kissing her back in earnest.  Unidentifiable colors burst behind his eyelids as he smoothes his hands up her back to cradle her neck, thumbs sweeping over the apples of her cheeks.  She is soft, warm and perfect against him, her lips parting ever so slightly to allow for more intimate, open-mouthed kisses that send fire racing beneath his skin.

 

The room feels a bit like it must be spinning once they finally part, breathing shallowly as they rest their foreheads together.

 

“I should go,” he whispers, knowing that if he doesn’t, he wouldn’t be capable of stopping himself from scooping her up and carrying her upstairs where he could extend his kisses to every inch of her lovely skin- a thought that brings a flush racing to his cheeks.

 

Alex nods and it takes all that he has to back away from her.  As he turns to leave, opening the door and stepping down the few steps, he registers an ache in his cheeks and realizes he must be smiling like a fool.

 

When he looks back, he finds her leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile on her face as she stares at the locket that hangs from her neck.

 

Matt finds himself wishing there was way to capture that expression on her face to keep forever, thinking that perhaps she’s just as gone for him as he is for her.  Unable to help himself, he reascends the steps to lean in and press another kiss to her lips, knowing that he could stay and kiss her forever and he would still want more. 

 

She hums happily, smiling brightly at him as he backs down the stairs.  “See you tomorrow, Kingston.”

 

XxX

 

The palace library is arguably his favorite place to find solace.  It is massive, filled with mahogany bookshelves, the smell of parchment, and the comforting silence that comes with having the company of only books.  The past five days have been spent with him assisting his father in military meetings, his heart longing only to be on the other side of the palace wall and in the arms of the woman he has become more and more confident in calling  _his_.

 

But it’s neither his long days nor temporary separation from Alex that has driven him into the library to stare out the window and sulk.  No, this time the culprit is his own mother. 

 

Matt feels his scowl deepen, feeling a bit like a petulant child and unable to keep his resentment from growing with every passing second.

 

“Brooding will do you no good, little brother.”

 

Laura’s voice breaks his thoughts, the precious silence, and any hope of spending the rest of the night alone.

 

Matt sighs tiredly, not bothering to even glance back at her as he rests his forehead on the cool window pane and continues to stare out into the night.  “What do you want, Lor?”

 

“I came to see why any man in his right mind would be  _upset_  at the news that his mother invited hundreds of young, well-off ladies to attend a festival  _for him_.”

 

His stomach twists.  “It’s a ridiculous idea.”

 

“ _No_ ,” Laura says sternly, “it’s not.  What’s ridiculous is that your coronation is in three weeks and you’re  _still_  not married.  If you can’t find a wife by then, you won’t be crowned.  This is your only hope, Matthew.”

 

“It’s  _not_  my only hope,” Matt replies quietly, feeling rage beginning to boil under his skin, tightening his jaw and pressing behind his eyes until all he can feel is irrational anger.

 

“What’s your plan, then?”

 

His silence provides her answer, and after a moment Laura scoffs.  “You cannot seriously still be chasing after that blacksmith woman.”

 

Matt snaps, turning to face her in one fluid movement, the hem of his coat flaring about his knees.  “I  _love her_ , Laura!”  The tension drains from his body, his shoulders slumping.  “And I’m fairly sure she loves me.”

 

Laura snorts.  “Of course she does.  You’re a bloody prince.”

 

Setting his jaw, Matt turns his attention back out of the window.  “She doesn’t know that.”

 

He can practically feel his sister’s surprise.  “What do you mean she doesn’t  _know_?”

 

“I haven’t told her.”

 

Laura moves to stand beside him, and he can see the incredulous expression on her face out of the corner of his eye.

 

“ _Why_?”

 

He shrugs, his next words feeling like ash on his tongue.  “Maybe I don’t even  _want_  to be prince anymore.”

 

“You don’t mean that.”

 

After a long moment, he gives a small sigh.  “You’re right.  But if I can’t marry her, I’m not going to marry anyone.  So what does it matter?”

 

There’s a moment of silence, then the sound of rustling before an envelope is shoved under his nose.  Warily, he glances at his sister before gingerly taking it from her grasp.

 

“What’s this?”  The envelope is thin, an off-white with a red wax seal of the royal family crest keeping its contents securely inside.

 

“An invitation to the festival.  I may have stolen it from the steward’s satchel.”

 

Hope rising in his chest, Matt swallows as he stares at her.  “Why?”

 

Avoiding his gaze, Laura purses her lips and focuses out of the window.  “Because this woman you’re so in love with doesn’t have a high enough social standing to have been invited.  If you intend on marrying her, she has to be there.”

 

“I know.  I get that.  What I meant was _why_ did _you_ decide to help me?”

 

Sighing, Laura leans against the frame of the window and pins her brother with a hard stare.  “Because if you love her as much as you say, we’ll all love her, too.  The whole kingdom will.  They’ll have to.”

 

Giddiness bubbling inside him, he sweeps his sister into a hug that lifts her from her feet, feeling like he has some sort of blessing.  “Thank you, Laura.”

 

Smoothing her skirts once her feet find the floor again, Laura finds a smile working its way across her face despite herself.  “Don’t thank me yet.  You still have to convince mother and father.  And a whole land of people.”  Laura pauses.  “Though you might want to start with informing the poor woman that you’re a _prince_.”

 

Matt winces, suddenly finding the floor a far more interesting sight, whispering, “I’m afraid to tell her.”

 

Laura scoffs.  “Why?”

 

“ _Because_.  She runs her own business- she _loves_ her job.  She’s happy.  She’d have to give all of that up if we were married.”  Matt frowns suddenly.  “ _If_ she even _wants_ to marry me.”  Panic suddenly constricts his chest as he looks up at his sister with wide eyes.  “What if she doesn’t want to marry me?!  I know _I_ wouldn’t want to marry me.  Look at me!  I’m all- I’m all- I’m a sodding string bean!  And I’m clumsy and I can be an idiot and-” Laura stops his ramble with a soothing hand on his arm.

 

“Calm down, Matty.  If she’s even only _half_ as gone for you as you are for her, you have nothing to worry about.”

 

Matt nods, giving into the nervous habit of running his fingers through his fringe.  Staring at the envelope in his hands, he grins, suddenly fully entertaining the idea of taking the crown in just a few weeks’ time- with Alex at his side.

 

XxX

 

“I don’t do house calls, Prince Matthew,” the doctor grumbles as he adjusts his coat and attempts to keep with Matt’s pace as they stride quickly out of the palace’s front entrance, the guards hastily moving to open the gates.

 

“Today you do,” Matt snaps, attempting to keep the panic from his voice, clenching his fists to keep them from shaking.

 

_It’s just a fever.  She’s fine_.

 

The thought it his mantra as he rushes through the streets, the doctor trailing at his heels, but just the thought itself leaves the taste of bile on his tongue.

 

_You’re over-reacting_.

 

It’s a mental struggle.  He doesn’t feel like his reaction is unnecessitated, but trying to convince himself otherwise is the thing that keeps him grounded.

 

This is the second time in one morning that he’s routed his way to the Iron Stable, weaving through the bustling streets with only Alex on his mind.  His mood had been much lighter the first time he ventured out, the sun stretching its first beams across the land, the air crisp and fresh, Alex’s invitation to the festival clenched tightly in his hand, and his heart feeling as if it had been displaced to the space above his head, his newfound hope taking up the rest of the room in his chest.

 

He’d been quickly pulled back to Earth the moment he had approached Alex’s shop, the hastily scrawled note that had been pinned to the front door immediately extinguishing any good feelings.

 

_Closed due to illness.  –K_

 

Hesitantly, he had entered and slowly climbed the creaky wooden stairs to the space that serves as Alex’s bedroom.  His panic reached its height upon finding her curled in the middle of her bed, shivering with her thin white nightgown sticking to her skin from sweat, damp curls that had escaped her ever-present braid clinging to her neck, her breath shallow, and completely unresponsive to his voice or touch.

 

After thoughtlessly placing the envelope onto her nightstand, he had pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, startled to find that she was practically on fire.  Wasting no time, he had run as fast as his gangly legs could take him, returning to the palace to fetch the doctor.

 

Now he returns to the Iron Stable with the royal family’s live-in physician stumbling inside behind him, still grumbling to himself about unprecedented house calls.

 

“She’s upstairs,” Matt pants out, a bit winded from his own hurried pace.

 

Pursing his lips in a way that conveys disapproval but deference, the doctor makes his way to the stairs, pausing only to give instruction.  “If she really does have a fever, she’ll need to soak in cool water.  I suggest you fill the tub.”

 

Matt acts before he even thinks, hurrying through the tiny kitchen and out the back door to the well that rests just next to the Forge.  It doesn’t take him long to discover that the small, wooden bucket used to capture the water also leaks.  Great.

 

The tub sits at the far end of the space in the kitchen, sectioned off only by a thin ragged cloth that hangs from the ceiling.  With the trips between the well and the tub, combined with the amount of pure force he has to use to pump the water from the well, Matt thinks it is the most physical labor he has ever done in his life.

 

By the time the tub is full and the doctor has returned down stairs, Matt is panting and covered in sweat.

 

“You were right about it being a fever.”

 

It takes all of Matt’s might not to bite out a less-than respectful reply- of course he was bloody right- and instead asks, “What can you do?”

 

His heart races, not only from the physical work he just completed, but also out of fear.  He’s seen fevers take lives.  He’s only just found her- he can’t _lose_ her.  Especially not to something as ridiculous as a _fever_.

 

“You’ll need to put her in the water- it should help stabilize her temperature.  I have an herbal remedy I’ll put into some tea that should also help fight it off.”

 

Matt stares.  “There’s nothing else you can do?  What about the thing with the blood?  Won’t that help?”

 

The doctor snorts.  “Blood-letting is an idiot’s remedy.  It won’t help.”  Softening at the lost look on Matt’s face, the doctor sighs.  “If we can get her temperature down, she’ll be fine.  It’s not as bad as it seems, Sir.”

 

Swallowing tightly, Matt nods before taking the stairs two at a time and leaving the doctor to his own devices in the kitchen.

 

Matt presses a kiss to Alex’s overly-warm brow as he lifts her, heart melting a bit as she curls into him even in her fever-induced sleep, as if she knows exactly whose arms she is in.  Guilt washes over him as he carefully makes his way down stairs, admonishing himself for letting other things keep him from visiting her over the past five days, for not taking the tiredness in her eyes and the weak set of her shoulders into serious consideration the last time he was here.

 

Reaching the kitchen, he pushes those thoughts aside to brood over later, skirting around the cloth that divides the kitchen from the tub and gently lowering her into the water.

 

Her eyes fly open almost the moment her over-heated skin comes in contact with the cool water, shock temporarily stealing her breath and her fingers immediately grasping at the collar of his shirt.

 

“Darling?”  Her voice is rough and weak, her eyes a bit unfocused as she frowns confusedly at him.

 

He makes a low, soothing shushing noise, brushing his lips softly over her forehead, internally floundering for something to say and settling for the obvious.  “You’re sick.”

 

She puffs out a short laugh as he rests his temple against hers, her fingers winding into his hair to keep him in place.  “I feel it.”

 

The stone ground is punishing to his knees and his back is bent forward in an awkward angle, but he barely notices, finding himself feeling only relieved.  When he pulls back and shifts his weight to his heels, he determinedly focuses only on her face, knowing that her white nightgown must be all but translucent through the water.

 

He stays with her until sundown, coaxing her into drinking the tea by exchanging soft kisses and blushing down to his toes when the doctor clears his throat pointedly.

 

Before he leaves he guides her back upstairs, turning his back as she dons a fresh nightgown and crawls slowly into bed.

 

“What’s this?”

 

Matt glances over his shoulder at her voice, turning fully to see the envelope containing her invitation clutched in her hand.

 

“Nothing,” he responds a little too quickly, deciding now is not the time and reaching to pull it from her grasp.

 

Frowning, she holds it protectively against her chest.  “Is it a letter?”

 

“Sort of.”

 

“For me?”

 

Matt nods.

 

Staring at the envelope, she draws her bottom lip between her teeth and absent-mindedly runs her fingers along the chain of the locket that continues to hang from her neck.

 

“Last time-”

 

He shakes his head emphatically, taking her hand as he sits beside her.  “We’ll talk when you’re better okay?”

 

After a moment she nods and he finds himself feeling oddly relieved.  He’s unsure if he’s not ready to talk about his proclamation of love because he truly would rather he be resting, or if it’s because he is still terrified of rejection.

 

With a possessive hold still on the envelope, she grabs a small, leather-bound book that rests on her nightstand and holds it out for him to take.  “I’ll trade you.  For the letter.”

 

He isn’t sure what the pages within the book contain, but the significant look she gives him tells him that it must be more than a fair exchange.

 

Nodding, he takes the book from her and presses another lingering kiss to her brow, relieved to feel it much cooler under his lips than earlier in the day, though it still is far warmer than he’d like.

 

“Rest up, Kingston.  I’ll see you in the morning.”

 

XxX

  
The grate in his room is lit when he finally gets behind the closed door, its warmth illuminating the room enough for him to read by as he forgoes his bed and collapses into an armchair, Alex’s small book in hand.

 

It is only a bit larger than his palm, roughly bound and looking as if it has seen better days.  Unable to put off his curiosity until morning, he opens the worn cover and settles more comfortably into the chair.

 

At first he is confused.  It is a journal penned in Alex’s scrawl, noting business transactions and marking down her commissions in what he assumes to be chronological order, rough sketches of her work occasionally inked in the margins.

 

Just as he’s wondering why she would want him to see this, he flips the page and sees a small entry about the sword done for his coronation.

 

_The long-slaved over sword for the prince was today taken out of my possession and placed into the rightful hands.  I was more caught off guard by the man than the generous sum I received for my work- he insists I call him_   ** _Matt_.**

 

His name is bolder than the rest of the words, the letters deeply ingrained as if she had sat for minutes doing nothing but penning it over and over.  Matt traces the letters, feeling the rise and fall of the parchment under his fingertips, catching himself smiling softly at the confirmation that he left just as a significant first impression on her as she did him.

 

Skimming over the next few pages without actually reading the words, it becomes clear to him that her business journal slowly turns into a personal one, the entries all involving him from then on out.  Heart beating madly, he finds himself both anxious and excited to see himself through her eyes, flipping back to the entry following the one that first mentioned him.

 

_Today, my weekly journey to the market was not one I took alone.  I’ve been admonishing myself for constantly thinking of the man who retrieved the sword for the Royal Family- perhaps thoughts can turn into physical manifestations, for he was standing just at my door the moment I stepped outside, almost as if a response to a silent summons._

 

_Perhaps the attraction I feel is mutual, a silly thought considering his standing._

 

_I’m unsure if I believe in destiny, but I’ve never given it much thought.  Is it possible for destiny not to be an idea or a life-long personal purpose, but rather a person?  I think I would like that._

 

_x_

 

_Today it rained.  My visitor made an appearance despite this fact, completely drenched, but with a smile on his face._

 

_Am I angry because he could have caught his death, or angry because I don’t understand why he continues to appear at my door?  If I’m honest, I imagine it’s a bit of both._

 

_I find myself wishing I could openly welcome his strange affection, but how can I when I can’t comprehend why it’s directed at me and not some young girl fit for royalty?_

 

_Perhaps I should quit rooting myself in my fear and give in to the warmth that comes from his gaze, his smile, his small touches- despite what my past experiences have taught me.  But blind leaps take courage, and I’m afraid that I’m more than a bit of a coward._

 

_x_

 

_I find the days that I take to writing in this journal now tend to be the days in which he invades my life._

 

_At times I still feel irrationally angry once the sun begins to set and he takes his leave.  I never asked him to show up at my door and upend my world with just one of those heart-melting, lopsided smiles.  I find this burst of inner anger never lasts for more than a second as I catch myself smiling like a besotted fool when thinking of him.  I know the anger comes from my own fear, but I don’t know how to be unafraid.  Perhaps that is something that only comes with time._

 

_I wonder if he can hear the rapid beating of my heart when he stands near, or if he can feel my adoration from just my gaze alone.  When did this happen?  I have long given up on the prospect of marriage, not that it ever really mattered- for women of my class, marriage is done through necessity.  If anything, my previously broken engagement did not ruin me, but rather saved me.  The society within which I live frowns upon my independent status, but I find myself incredibly grateful not to lead a life in which I’m swallowed by the shadow of a husband._

 

_I do not need a man.  But oh- how I want_   ** _him_.**

 

_x_

 

_I’m feeling a bit under the weather today, but happiness overwhelmed any thought of illness the moment Matt entered my kitchen this afternoon.  It’s a bit ridiculous how it only takes his presence to brighten my world._

 

_He kissed me and I felt fit to burst.  It was beyond proper- but perhaps all propriety was lost the moment he decided to court a woman so far beneath him.  The feel of his lips on mine was like nothing I have ever felt before.  It was more than just a touch of skin, rather an indescribable moment that seemed to bind us together at the very soul._

 

_I had longed to take him by the hand and lead him to my bed, to give myself to him completely, regardless of our lack of marital status.  My heart already feels as if it has married his- no blessing or lack thereof can change that.  I feel my cheeks heating at just the thought of my bare skin pressed against his, and I wonder what he would think of my desire if he could read minds._

 

_He confessed his love.  It was nothing more than a whisper, a puff of air that held words that wrapped around me and made me feel as if I was floating.  I’m unsure why he asked that I not say anything in return, for surely he must know that somehow over the course of these past few weeks, my heart has gone from being securely placed in my own chest, to belonging to only him._

 

Matt swallows tightly as he finishes the most recent entry in the journal, somehow feeling even more in love with this woman than he did only moments ago.

 

His eyes were never supposed to find these small passages that were large insights into her very soul, but she had given them to him all the same, as if presenting him with her heart itself.  He had been afraid of her response to his love, unnecessarily so, and she had given him this to fully force him to see that his love does not go unmatched.  He can hear her voice in his head, a warm, fond whisper of ‘ _Idiot_ ,’ that causes a warm grin to spread across his face.

 

That night he falls asleep with the journal under his pillow, a smile on his face, and with a fuller heart than he has ever known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. She stood there bright as the sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of course he realized Alex would have to forfeit her life as a blacksmith, but for some reason all thinking stopped there. Never had he finished the thought with ‘to become queen.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Thanks for sticking with this- you're all so lovely (:
> 
> Chapter title from Hollywood Nights by Bob Seger

The next morning sees Matt again dragging the doctor from the palace, an awkward silence hanging between them as they stroll through the streets toward the Iron Stable at a much more leisurely pace than the day before.

 

Matt gives a put upon sigh.  “Out with it already.”

 

“Out with what?”

 

“Whatever you need to say, say it, Doc.”

 

The doctor fidgets, tugging at his coat and adjusting his glasses before finally asking, “Is she married?”

 

“No.”

 

“But she’s older than you,” the doctor observes.

 

Matt scoffs, briefly recalling back to one of their tea sessions when Alex confided in him her age, vulnerability rolling off her in waves.  “She is only three years my senior.  I hardly count that as being older.”

 

“Yes, but even equal age is still a far cry from a _normal_ match, isn’t it?”

 

Giving the doctor a tight smile, Matt shrugs.  “Nothing about this match is exactly normal.”

 

The doctor laughs.  “I suppose you’re right.”

 

When they reach Alex’s shop, entering through the kitchen, the doctor hands him a bag of herbs.  “Start making the tea.  I’ll go check on her.”

 

Matt nods, calling out to the older man before he ascends the stairs, “Doc?”  He turns.  “I love her.  Nothing else matters.”

 

The doctor gives the briefest of smiles in acknowledgement before leaving Matt on his own to deal with the tea.  His impatience is incredible as he goes through the process of boiling the water and steeping the tea, letting out his agitation by hopping from foot to foot and absolutely convinced that he has never seen such a tea that steeps as slowly as this.

 

“ _Finally_ ,” he breathes out once he deems it finished, ignoring the heat of the mug as he takes it from the countertop and heads upstairs.

 

He hears the tones of Alex’s voice before he reaches the top of the stairs, warmth unfurling in chest at just the sound, and grinning when he hears the doctor respond to whatever she said with a pleased chuckle.

 

Alex’s attention is drawn to him the moment he enters, and he stifles a smug grin as he notices the fond look on the doctor’s face- it seems that Alex has the power to win anyone over in just mere minutes.

 

“Darling,” she holds out her hand to him from her spot on the bed, smiling beautifully despite her apparent exhaustion.

 

For a moment he is frozen at the top of the stairs, barely even capable of breathing.  This woman loves him.  He’d assumed as much before, got confirmation from her journal, but something about this moment- her smile, her gaze, the way she reaches for him and calls him _darling_ like it’s his name- makes it seem so very, very _real_.

 

 _This woman loves him_.

 

It feels almost overwhelming, and he has no power to stop the ridiculous grin that spreads across his face.

 

Placing her tea on the nightstand, he takes her hand and drops a soft kiss to her brow.  “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

 

“Much better,” she promises, though he can see a weakness in the set of her shoulders, tiredness in her eyes, and the effort it takes her just to smile.

 

“Her temperature has gone down significantly,” the doctor states.  “Though I would recommend occasionally washing down with a cool cloth to keep it that way.”  He stands.  “Otherwise just keep drinking the tea and get as much rest as you can.”

 

“Thank you, Doc,” Alex says, tone earnest as she places a warm hand on his arm.

 

“Anytime, Miss Kingston,” the doctor responds sincerely, bending to kiss her hand before walking with Matt down the stairs.

 

Matt smiles smugly at the doctor as they reach the bottom floor.  “ _Anytime_?  I thought you didn’t make house calls.”

 

The doctor fixes Matt with a knowing look as he represses a smile.  “I imagine the next time she requires my services I will only have to travel a floor up from my own chambers.”

 

Matt grins.  “That’s the hope, Doc.”

 

The doctor hums.  “She has a rather irresistible charm about her- I think the people will have no problem accepting her as Queen.”

 

Matt freezes, his brain seeming to short-circuit as he entertains the idea of Alex as queen for the first time.  Selfishly, he’s only given considerable thought to what loving Alex means for him.  Of course he realized Alex would have to forfeit her life as a blacksmith, but for some reason all thinking stopped there.  Never had he finished the thought with ‘to become queen.’    

 

 _Queen Alexandra_.

 

He smiles to himself, deciding he more than likes the sound of that.  Those curls were made for a crown.

 

XxX

 

Once the doctor leaves, Matt pumps water from the well into the small bowl and heads back upstairs, bowl and cloth in hand.

 

Alex is finishing her tea as he enters the space, her hand holding the invitation he left with her the previous evening.  She waves it as he takes a spot next to her on the bed.  “It’s an invitation.”

 

He nods.

 

“To a festival.”

 

Another nod.

 

“A festival for the prince.  So he can find a bride.”

 

Matt scratches awkwardly at the back of his neck.  “Your tone suggests this is a problem.”

 

Her lips twitch, as if she is attempting to restrain her amusement.  “It’s not a problem- I’m just wondering why I’m invited.”

 

This is it.  This is the gods themselves whacking him over the head with the opportunity.  After a moment, he affects a pout.  “I’m required to be there.  I have to have someone to dance with, Kingston.”

 

Alex watches him closely for a moment, and honestly, what was he supposed to say?  He’ll tell her that he’s the prince, that he wants her there because she’s the only woman he ever wants to marry, and that if she agrees that means she’s also agreeing to becoming Queen to a whole land.  He’ll tell her.  He will.  Just not right now.

 

Alex sighs patiently, as if she knows exactly what he’s keeping from her, and then gives him a hesitant look.  “Did you look at the journal?”

 

Matt nods, dipping the cloth into the bowl of water to dampen it.  “You love me, Kingston,” he states smugly, gently wiping the cloth over her brow and enjoying the way she leans into his touch.

 

She smiles, her eyes soft as she looks up at him.  “Of course I do, you idiot.”

 

He huffs out a soft laugh, gently tugging at her until she rests comfortably in his lap, her nightgown riding up to expose enough skin to make him blush as her thighs fall to either side of him.  His hands shake ever so slightly as he trails the damp cloth down her neck and across her clavicle, swallowing tightly at the warmth of her pressed directly on his groin and finding it incredibly difficult to keep his thoughts pure.

 

Alex takes the cloth from his grip and tosses it to rest with the bowl of water on the nightstand.  When he looks at her, puzzled, heat immediately sparks through him at the desire in her gaze, the normal shining green of her eyes nearly eclipsed by the black.

 

She takes a moment to undo her hair from its braid, and he is utterly transfixed by just how much of it there is, golden ringlets cascading down her back in a mane.  He doesn’t even have a chance to voice his thoughts or properly admire it before Alex presses her lips to his, the swell of her breasts pushed against his chest and her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

 

“Alex,” he breathes as her lips move to his jaw, his hands gripping her hips.

 

She hums in response, peppering soft kisses down his neck before darting her tongue out to taste the skin at the crook of his shoulder.  He gasps, his fingers curling into the thin material of her nightgown, and he swears he can feel the curve of her smile against his skin.

 

“You’re supposed to be resting,” he protests weakly.

 

“I’m sure what a little sleep could do would be nothing compared to how you could make me feel, darling,” she all but purrs against his ear, and he shivers at the low tone of her voice and the implication of her words, the little resolve he had dissolving and morphing into pure want.

 

Her hands trail down his chest before slipping under the hem of his shirt, his skin jumping at the unexpected contact and his heart racing as she rucks his shirt up and over his head.

 

A blush creeps across his skin and he finds himself hoping she doesn’t notice as he allows her to push him back onto the mattress, his head resting on her pillow and angled perfectly to see her sitting astride him like a queen on her throne, naughty smirk in place.

 

“You’ve taken such good care of me,” she whispers as she leans down, pressing another fleeting kiss to his lips, “So now let me take care of you.”

 

Matt nearly chokes as she presses against him and gives a wriggle of her hips, feeling his blood rushing to his groin.  Her lips brush along his collarbone before trailing down his chest, her tongue flicking out to lick along the flat of his nipple.  Matt whimpers, his hips lifting involuntarily as she continues to press lingering kisses across his chest, slowly moving downward.

 

“My, my,” she says, smirking up at him at her fingers dance around the edge of his trousers, “Eager, are we?”

 

“You have no idea, Kingston,” he admits, and her smirk transforms into a wide smile right before his eyes as she gives a bright laugh, the sound warming his heart.

 

“I think I have _some_ idea, darling,” she murmurs, eyeing the bulge in his trousers and teasingly running her finger along the seam.  The touch causes him shudder, and he feels a full flush ignite at his ears at both her gaze and his own internal realization that his cock is all but throbbing with need- this woman is going to be the death of him.

 

Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she undoes the laces of his trousers at an agonizingly slow pace, leaving him undone but still trapped in the clothing as she moves off the bed to tug off his boots and toss them to the floor.

 

Looking at him with both desire and so much love it almost hurts, she smiles at him and taps the bare skin of his hip with her finger.  “Up.”

 

Doing as she commands, Matt lifts his hips, heart hammering in his chest as Alex grips the waistband of his trousers and strips them from his skin, her wide eyes staring at his erection.  Settling on the tops of his shins, she runs her hands up his thighs, his hips, along the skin of his stomach, as if almost hesitant to touch him where he wants her most.

 

He shivers at the feeling of her hands running back down his thighs, the roughened palms that come from her work only adding to the sensation.  “ _Alex_ ,” it’s more than just a whisper, it’s a plea, and when she meets his gaze, a smirk curls the lovely edges of her lips, any trepidation now gone.

 

Matt has never had any fingers but his own touch him in an intimate way, and the moment Alex’s small hand wraps around the base of his length, he feels as if he loses any sense of coherent thought.

 

His fingers dig into the sheets as Alex works her hand up and down his shaft at an almost torturously slow pace, his breath shaking with every inhalation.  He is so lost in this new, foreign feeling that he doesn’t even register Alex bending forward, completely caught off guard by the slick, wet sensation of her tongue dragging along the thick, sensitive vein on the underside of his cock.

 

Matt gasps, his mouth opening to either exclaim her name or to call out to some higher being- he’s really not sure which, but it doesn’t matter because whatever it was becomes lost as a deep, shuddering moan takes its place.

 

Her tongue continues its path, up and along the head of his cock to lick at the slit, removing the wetness that had begun to gather there and humming as if pleased by the salty taste.  His eyes roll back in his head the moment her lips envelop him, her warm, wet mouth giving way to an entire different form pleasure.

 

A choked groan escapes his lips as she begins to bob her head, green eyes locking with his as he tangles his fingers in her magnificent curls.  His muscles begin to tighten and he can feel a tingling pleasure beginning to build at the base of his spine.  All he wants in that moment is to tighten his grip on her curls and let his pleasure rush over him, but he finds that even more than that, he wants to be buried inside of her when he comes.

 

“Alex- wait- stop,” he gasps out, sitting up and nearly whimpering at the loss of her mouth around him as she does the same.

 

Alex frowns at him, brow furrowed adorably in confusion, and he can’t help but surging forward to kiss her, clinging to her tightly as he finds that he needs to have some part of his body touching hers at all times.

 

“Why?” She breathes out when they part for air.

 

“Because, sweetheart,” he answers, gently pushing at her shoulders until she is laying down, head at the foot of the bed and pillowed buy her curls.  “ _I_ want to taste _you_.”

 

Her eyes darken at his words and he smiles inwardly, trying to ignore the shaking of his fingers as he grips the hem of her nightgown and slowly pushes it up to her waist, his hands reverently caressing her skin as he goes.

 

Smiling up at her, he taps her knee and repeats her earlier command, “Up.”

 

She swallows audibly before complying, his heart nearly stalling as she bends her knees and presses her feet flat against the mattress, spreading herself beautifully for him.  The musky smell of her hits him as he settles between her legs, his mouth watering before he even gets his first taste.

 

Her thighs quiver as he presses brief, soft kisses to her inner thighs, moving steadily closer to the apex.  With one last kiss to the skin at the crease of her thigh, he uses his forefingers and thumbs to spread open her lips, fully exposing her wet, pink folds to him.

 

“Gorgeous,” he breathes as he studies her, not giving her time to respond before he leans in and licks the length of her, the bright taste of her bursting across his tongue.

 

Matt feels her muscles immediately tighten and delights in the sharp gasp followed by the barely audible, “ _Darling_.”

 

Inwardly pleased, he begins to thoroughly explore her with his tongue, finding her to be the most responsive when he focuses on the little button of flesh that rests at the very top.  Wrapping his lips around it, he sucks, her hands burying in his hair to keep him in place as she cries out, a sound that shoots straight through him and sends heat racing through his very bones.

 

Soon he has her scrabbling at his shoulders, pulling at him until he forfeits his position and moves up to cover her mouth with his in a hard kiss that lasts until his lungs begin to scream for air.

 

“Want you,” Alex pants, and as he looks down at her pleasure-hazed eyes and kiss-swollen lips, he thinks if he doesn’t have her right then he may actually die.

 

Hurriedly, he sits up, tugging her with him to quickly pull her nightgown the rest of the way off, revealing full breasts with dusky nipples that he wants to lavish with attention for hours on end.  But later.  Right now he needs her.

 

Apparently she feels the same, shoving him backward to lie back in his earlier position, and climbing to straddle him, her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips to leave her hovering above him, the heat radiating from her core nearly driving him spare.

 

Matt reaches out and takes her hand in his, linking their fingers as she uses her other hand to grip his erection and slowly sink down on him, wincing only briefly as she takes all of him in.

 

All of his thoughts end there, nothing but pleasure filling his mind as he gasps out her name.  “You feel amazing,” he rumbles out, the warm wetness of her almost too much for him to handle.

 

“Mutual, darling,” she breathes, her eyes flitting closed for a brief moment, as if trying to gather herself, before she splays the hand not in his across his chest, transferring her weight to that point as she finally begins to move.

 

He groans, his free hand gripping her hip as he feels his orgasm beginning to approach at an alarming rate.  As he rolls his hips upward to meet her every downward movement, he can’t help but take in the picture Alex makes, stripped of everything but her locket and looking like some sort of goddess as she rides him, hair wild, eyes burning with desire, and every movement, touch and look claiming him as _hers_.

 

“ _Matt_.”  His name is a whimper on her lips, her thighs beginning to tremble.  Moving his hand from her hip, he runs it up her spine to cup the back of her neck, pulling her down to him before rolling her under him and pressing her into the mattress.

 

She moans at the new angle as he begins to thrust into her at a faster pace than she had set, the bed creaking and the intricately carved headboard thumping against the wall.  Her fingers drag down his back, digging into his skin and only serving to heighten his pleasure.

 

Grunting, he drops his head to the crook of her shoulder, his lips puckering in a kiss against her skin as he moves his hand between their bodies, his fingers splaying across her abdomen as his thumb searches for that magical little bundle of nerves he found earlier.

 

He knows the moment he finds it, Alex suddenly going rigid as she cries out her release, her hands flying to tangle in his hair and her head thrown back, her curls spilling across the pillows.

 

Her inner muscles swell and ripple, a sensation that instantly sends him off the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic as he spills inside her, crying out her name even as he buries his face against her neck.

 

For a moment he can only lie there, panting into her skin and suddenly feeling incredibly lethargic.  It takes the rest of his energy to roll to her side, feeling more than content as she curls into him, her arm draped across his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

 

“Love you,” he whispers.

 

“I love you, too, darling,” she answers, and he can hear the smile in her voice, his lips curling upward in return as he gives into sleep.

 

XxX

 

When Matt wakes, it’s to an empty bed and the orange glow of sunset spilling through the window.

 

Frowning at the severe lack of Alex next to him, he stretches and rolls over, heedless of the sheets tangling around his waist.  Alex stands in the doorway, her nightgown covering all of the skin he longs to explore again, and her hair an absolute beautiful mess of tangled curls.

 

Matt smiles at her, feeling in so much love it almost hurts, before quickly schooling his expression and affecting a pout.  “Why are you out of bed?”

 

Smiling fondly at him, she holds up the mug cradled in her hands.  “Tea.”

 

His pout deepens.  “But why are you all the way over there?”

 

Raking her eyes over his form, she takes a moment to sip at her tea before answering, “How could I give up the opportunity to admire a thoroughly shagged prince sleeping in my bed?”

 

“Well admire closer,” he responds, patting the empty space of the bed.

 

Moving to set her tea on the nightstand, it isn’t until she’s climbing in next to him does his brain finally catch up with her words.  Gasping, he shoots into sitting position, mouth open and taking her in with wide eyes as she settles on his lap.

 

Matt swallows heavily.  “You said ‘prince.’”

 

Alex sighs patiently, fixing him with a fond look as she cards her fingers through his hair, as if she has been waiting for him to catch up all this time.  “Yes.  I did.”

 

“You knew?”

 

She snorts.  “You’re not as sneaky as you’d like to think, darling.”

 

He sputters.  “But- but- how long?”

 

Giving another sigh, she leans in and presses a swift kiss to his lips.  “Since the day you came to pick up your coronation sword.”

 

“Since the _first day_?!  Why didn’t you ever say anything?!”

 

“Because,” she speaks calmly, despite the slight hysteria that lines his own words, “I figured you didn’t want me to know for a reason, and that you would tell me when you were ready.”  She smiles, nose crinkling in a way that gives him the urge to kiss her.  “I guess I ended up making that decision for you, though.  Sorry.  I got impatient.”

 

He laughs despite the guilt churning in his gut, picking up her hand and brushing his lips across her knuckles in an apology.  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

 

She frowns suddenly, in thought.  “Why didn’t you?”

 

Matt shrugs.  “At first it was more about me than you.  I’m not supposed to leave the palace without an escort, and flaunting my identity around town would probably only result in trouble.  Then after I started seeing you more, I was afraid that if I told you who I was, you would like me because I’m royalty, not because I’m just _me_.”

 

Alex frowns at that, opening her mouth in protest but not getting a chance to speak as he continues, “But then I started to realize that you’re not exactly the type of woman to put much stock into something like that, that you did like me for me- that you _loved_ me for me.  I should’ve told you then, but I didn’t because I started to worry how you would react when I told you.  I was afraid that you would turn me away after you realized what being with me meant for _you_.”

 

He shrugs again as he finishes his explanation, risking a glance at her to find her smiling fondly.  Alex sighs.  “You’re an idiot.”

 

Matt grins.  “ _Your_ idiot, though?”

 

Her eyes darken, her gaze alone sending heat tingling through his body.  “Oh yes, darling.  All _mine_.”

 

The possession that lines her voice is also in her kiss as she pulls him to her and crashes his lips against hers.  What happens after is inevitable really, his hands itching to touch her everywhere and longing to hear her beautiful moans and gasps by his ear.  Their eyes, fingers and mouths thoroughly explore each other until the sun has completely set, him finally pressing inside of her when they can no longer properly see, a hanging lantern from outside only providing the softest of glowing light.

 

Afterward, they lie together in the darkness, panting as sweat cools on their skin.  Matt makes a whinging noise as Alex moves from his arms and rolls over to rummage around with something on her nightstand, his lips pressing fleeting kisses to her back, seemingly unable to stop touching her even as she lights a cluster of candles to provide them with a low light.

 

When she rolls back over, she has the invitation in her hand, and his heart flutters at the sight of it, it suddenly seeming to carry a much heavier weight now that he is aware that she knows he’s the prince.

 

“The festival is so the prince can find a bride.  And you’re the prince,” she states, briefly worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she stares at the invitation.  “You’re sure you want me to attend the festival?”

 

“I want _only_ you, sweetheart,” he confesses, dropping a soft kiss to her bare shoulder, his heart pounding as he’s fully aware this is all but a proposal for marriage.

 

For a moment, she watches him with wide eyes before she smiles, leaning in to kiss him.  “I’ll be there, darling.”

 

XxX

 

 _Knock knock knock_.

 

Matt groans at the noise, refusing to open his eyes to the morning light and tightening his grip around the sleep warm Alex against him.

 

 _Knock knock knock_.

 

It’s louder this time, prompting Matt to squint open one eye to peek at Alex.  Repressing a grin at the sight of her face wrinkled up as she tries to ignore whoever is at the door, he drops a kiss to her brow.  “You should probably get that, sweetheart.”

 

“Don’t want to.”

 

Alex curls even further into him, face by his neck and one leg slipped between both of his.  Humming happily, he closes his eyes once more, thinking that perhaps the person has finally taken a hint and left.

 

 _Knock knock knock_.

 

This time it’s more of a loud banging than an actual succession of knocks.

 

Alex groans, throwing the sheets back in agitation and getting out of bed.  From his spot on the bed, Matt mourns the loss of her touch but admires the skin on display as she flings open the door to her wardrobe, grumbling curses under breath as she goes.  Amused, he watches as she selects an already loosely-laced up dress, throws it on and stomps downstairs, currently uncaring about her untamed curls that seem to be in one giant tangled mess.

 

Apparently his Alex is not a morning person.

 

Grinning to himself, he stretches out among the sheets and closes his eyes, patiently waiting for Alex to return.

 

“Did you send them away?”  He asks, hearing feet ascend the stairs and enter the space.

 

“No she did _not_ bloody well send them away, Matthew.”  At the sound of his sister’s voice, Matt’s eyes fly open as he hurries to pull the sheets up to his chin.

 

“Lor,” he squeaks.  “What are you doing here?”

“Mother’s on a rampage.  Get your skinny arse out of that bed, get dressed and get downstairs.  I’ll explain more once you’re in the carriage.”

 

With that, she turns on her heel and walks swiftly back down the stairs, leaving Matt to gape after her until his brain catches up and has him scrambling out of bed and into his clothes.

 

Matt frowns at the sight that greets him at the bottom of the stairs, finding the steward and five guards all crammed into Alex’s tiny kitchen, Alex herself leveling them with a rather impressive glare.

 

Alex gives him a tight smile as he enters.  “Your sister is already waiting for you in the carriage.”

 

He nods his understanding, glancing worriedly at the men before turning his attention back to her.  “Everything okay?”

 

Eyes flitting to the steward and the guards, who continue to stand there silently, she nods.  “Everything’s fine, darling.”

 

Knowing he needs to leave, he takes her hand and presses a kiss to her knuckles, wishing he could take her in his arms and kiss her goodbye, but choosing to adhere to the rules of propriety while under the watch of others.  “I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

 

A brief flash of sadness flickers in her eyes at his words, as if she doesn’t believe him, but then she’s smiling and giving him a curtsy and perhaps he didn’t see what he thought he saw.  “Until tomorrow, Prince Matthew.”

 

With an odd, unpleasant feeling settling in his chest, he steps out of the Iron Stable and into his sister’s carriage, frowning as he sees a second one and wondering why they felt the need to take two.

 

The carriage jerks into motion immediately, Laura fixing him with a disappointed glare.  “You’ve been reckless, little brother.”

 

Matt sighs inwardly, restraining himself from showing just how little he cares as his sister continues.  “Up to this point Mother has been deluding herself that your little disappearances during the day are attributed to preparing for your coronation, but after you stupidly didn’t show for dinner last night and she was unable to find you anywhere, she nearly lost it.”

 

“And I’m supposing you told her exactly where I was.”  He tries to keep the bitterness out of his tone, but it comes across as accusatory nonetheless.

 

Laura bristles.  “She was preparing to send the bloody army out to find you, Matthew.”

 

Heaving a sigh, Matt slouches back in his seat, knowing that his sister did what she had to, but not liking it one bit.

 

“So Mother knows about Alex?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Matt pauses, running his fingers through his hair in an agitated manner.  “How did she react?”

 

“A working lower-middle class woman having illicit relations with the prince?”  Laura snorts.  “Mother was ready to throw her in the dungeon.  It’s lucky Father was there to talk her down.”

 

“This is a mess,” Matt admits, burying his face in his hands.

 

“Actually, that’s not all,” Laura says hesitantly as the carriage rolls in through the front entrance, the palace gates closing behind them.

 

Looking up from his hands, Matt watches her and waits for her to continue despite the fact that the carriage has come to a halt in front of the palace steps.

 

“Mother decided that since the dungeon wasn’t an option, the best course of action would be to get her as far away from you as possible.”

 

Matt’s heart drops.  “What do you mean?”

 

Laura hesitates, as if wishing anyone else could be having this conversation with him but her.  Breathing out steadily, she finally answers, “They’re expelling Alex from the kingdom.”

 

XxX

 

Red is all Matt sees the moment he understands why the steward and five guards stayed behind at the Iron Stable with an extra carriage.  He tries to find a way to get beyond the palace wall, needing to get to Alex before she’s gone, but finds that every possible exit is now blocked with guards.

 

So now he finds himself all but bursting into the dining hall where his parents are currently enjoying breakfast.  His father stays silent and his mother doesn’t even spare him a glance as he approaches, buttering a piece of bread as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

 

Calmly, eyes still trained on her bread, his mother acknowledges him by asking, “Something you need, dear?”

 

Matt grits his teeth, balling his fists by his sides in an attempt to keep his rage at bay, surprised when his voice comes out low and calm.  “You can’t just toss Alex from the kingdom.”

 

Sighing as if she has some great burden resting on her shoulders, his mother puts down the bread and looks up at him.  “I know you don’t see it yet, but this is for your own good, honey.”

 

“ _She_ is what is for my own good, actually- I’m going to marry her,” Matt states, chin high in defiance and jaw set.

 

His mother’s eyes widen briefly, her gaze suddenly hardening.  “No.  You’re not.  Princes do not marry women from the lower middle class- yet alone any woman who works as a blacksmith.”  Setting her cloth napkin on her plate, she rises.  “I do believe I’m done with breakfast.”  She looks at Matt pointedly.  “As well as this conversation.”

 

Matt deflates the moment she exits the hall, dropping into the chair across from his father. 

 

“You’re out of bed,” Matt notes.

 

His father nods.  “Today seems to be one of the good days.”  No doctor in the kingdom has been able to correctly diagnose his father’s illness, but whatever it is seems to sap the energy right from him most days.  Feeling a bit guilty at making his own problems the priority, Matt weakly offers, “I’m glad.”

 

Silence fills the hall until his father leans forward, pinning Matt with a solemn stare.  “Your mother is just upset, you know.”

 

Matt glares bitterly at the table cloth.  “Well throwing someone out of the kingdom is a bit excessive for just being upset, don’t you think?”

 

His father’s lips twitch.  “When has your mother ever been anything less than excessive?”

 

Matt laughs humorlessly, silence settling once more before he quietly states.  “Alex’s social standing shouldn’t matter.”

 

His father leans back in his chair.  “I don’t think that’s the entire reason why your mother is so upset.”

 

“What else is there?”

 

His father shrugs.  “I think that’s something you have to figure out.”

 

Matt frowns, confused but choosing not to question.

 

After a moment, his father speak again.  “I rather like her quite a bit.”

 

Matt glances up, increasingly more confused.  “Mother?”

 

Shaking his head, his father smiles.  “Miss Kingston.”

 

Immediately straightening in his seat, Matt watches his father with wide eyes.  “You’ve met Alex?”

 

The older man nods, grinning like he remembers their encounter well.  “I’ve had many audiences with her- most of them discussing things such as your coronation sword.  She’s a remarkable blacksmith, but also a rather remarkable woman.”  He pauses.  “I think the two of you would make quite the match.”

 

Matt’s heart lifts a bit at his father’s blessing.  “Then why not stop all this madness?”

 

His father shakes his head.  “This is between you and your mother.”  The corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile.  “I did, however, rather forcefully suggest to the steward to allow Miss Kingston to stay at the Inn at the edge of town for a week so she can settle the remainder of her business affairs.”

 

Suddenly, Matt’s world seems a little brighter than it had a second ago, all hope not seeming completely lost.  He has one week- until the day of the festival- to fix this.

 

XxX

 

Four days later and he has still gotten nowhere with his mother, every encounter ending with hurtful words that Matt always feels guilty about later.

 

Slumped into one of the high-backed, leather arm chairs in the library, Matt stews over his most recent argument with his mother, not understanding why she refuses to even listen to what he has to say.

 

According to his father, Alex had been given a very generous sum of money, a deed of ownership to a new shop and a small piece of land in the next kingdom over, and even the highest of recommendations to the neighboring Royal Family for them to hire her as their go-to blacksmith.  He takes comfort in the fact that his mother is not simply evicting Alex from her home and tossing her on the streets- in his mother’s words, ‘she is simply being relocated to remove temptation.’

 

The problem is that it doesn’t remove temptation- to do that, his mother would have to remove his very heart.  What it does accomplish, however, is solving the apparent problem of her marrying Matt.  The moment Alex crosses the border, she’ll never be allowed to return; and while he may be able to visit her, he would never be able to bring her back and make her truly his.

 

Matt sinks further down in his chair, his heart feeling dead in his chest at just the thought.

 

“You’re acting like a child.”

 

Groaning internally, he closes his eyes against his sister’s entrance and says goodbye to moping in silence.

 

“Hello, Laura,” he deadpans as he opens his eyes again to see his sister standing in front of him with her hands on her hips.

 

Narrowing her eyes at him, she ignores his greeting entirely.  “If you think having juvenile rows with your mother is going to help you any, you’re being an idiot.”

 

“I already know I’m an idiot,” he grumbles.

 

Laura gives him an exasperated looks and he sighs.  “What do you want from me, Laura?”

 

“I want you to get off your skinny arse and go apologize.”

 

Matt laughs incredulously.  “ _Apologize_?  To the woman who’s bent on throwing Alex out of the kingdom just because she’d rather I be with some Austrian princess?  You’ve got to be joking.”

 

Laura makes a frustrated noise.  “You don’t get it.  Just- just try to see this through her eyes for a moment, yeah?  How did Mother even find out about Alex?”

 

Matt hesitates.  “You.”

 

“Exactly.  Not you.  _Me_.  And how much does she know about Alex?”

 

Not liking where this is going, Matt shrugs evasively.

 

“She knows Alex’s social standing, her occupation as a blacksmith, and that you’re sleeping with her.  That’s it.”

 

Matt winces at the last bit, trying to fight off an embarrassed flush.  “Honestly, Lor, you make it sound like she’s some sort of casual fling.”

 

Laura simply raises a thin eyebrow at him, as if to say _point proven_.

 

Matt’s heart sinks as he finally begins to understand.  “You’re saying she doesn’t think I’m serious about Alex?”

 

Laura shrugs.  “Why would she think otherwise?  You’ve never once mentioned her.”  His sister sighs.  “She thinks she’s saving your reputation by keeping the two of you apart.  Which is a fair point, really.  If the people were to find out just what sort of relationship you two have, it could become quite the scandal.”

 

Matt feels his cheeks heat.  “I only spent one night with her.”

 

“Yes, and that one night is the exact reason why you’re in this mess.  If you had just kept it in your pants you would’ve made it home for dinner and Mother wouldn’t have suspected a thing.”

 

“Laura!”  Matt gasps, his face now completely red.

 

His sister holds up her hands defensively.  “I’m just saying how it is!”

 

“Wait.  Just wait,” Matt says, pinching the bridge of his nose while he thinks, simultaneously trying to fight off his embarrassment.  “This doesn’t make any sense- I told Mother I intend on marrying Alex.”

 

Laura scoffs.  “Name one reason why she should take you seriously- you’ve been bent against marriage since day one!”

 

Slumping his shoulders in defeat, Matt sighs.  “You’re right.”  Suddenly feeling more distressed than before, he tugs at the fringe of his hair in a frustrated manner.  “This is all my fault.”

 

“Well how are you gonna fix it, lover boy?”

 

Frowning, Matt turns to stare out of the window, feeling decidedly defeated.  “I don’t know.”

 

XxX

 

The next morning Matt rises with the sun, dressing carefully and approaching his mother’s private sitting room with a quiet determination, Alex’s small journal gripped tightly in his hand.

 

He knocks softly on the tall wooden doors, entering at his mother’s quiet ‘ _Come in_ ,’ and finding her sitting at the window.  His mother gives him a tired smile, weariness seeming to line her frame.  “Good morning, Matthew.”  She motions for him to sit.  “I really don’t have it in me to argue this morning, if that’s why you’re here.”

 

Feeling even guiltier than before, Matt sits in the comfortable chair opposite her and tries not to fidget.  “I’m here to apologize, actually.”  She raises an eyebrow and Matt clears his throat, feeling like a little boy again under her gaze.  “My behavior these past few days has been inexcusable, and for that I am sorry.”  He hesitates.  “But I also wanted to apologize for not telling you about Alex, especially since she is someone of the upmost importance to me.  But I thought…I thought maybe I could tell you about her now?”

 

Matt looks hopefully at his mother, Alex’s journal gripped tightly in his hands and feeling relieved when his mother simply nods her acquiescence.

 

Unsure exactly how to begin, he starts at the beginning and recounts each of his encounters with Alex as if it were a story, because that’s exactly what it is.  He paints Alex as a living picture- eyes that hold the sea, hair that rivals that of a lion’s mane, a laugh that that can only belong to the goddess of music herself, and a thieving heart- as it has stolen his own.   

 

His mother doesn’t say much, but her entire demeanor seems to soften the longer he speaks.

 

By the time he’s finished the sun is significantly higher in the sky, his heart feeling as if it has risen along with it.  Before he takes his leave, he places Alex’s journal in his mother’s hands, hoping that if he hasn’t been able to sway her, perhaps Alex herself can.

.

XxX

 

“Matty- Matty wake up.”

 

Matt frowns, refusing to open his eyes and trying to roll away from the hands currently trying to shake him awake, pulling the covers over his head as if that makes everything go away.  Laura groans.  “You’re such a child!”  She huffs.  “Fine.  I guess you don’t care that Alex is here.”

 

Eyes flying open, Matt throws back his covers and scrambles to sit up.  “What?!”

 

“Arrived this morning.”  Laura smirks.  “I heard she was all but dragging the steward along behind her.”

 

“Wait. So does that mean Mother changed her mind?”

 

“I had already decided to revoke her exile,” his mother speaks from the doorway as she enters, “Though she arrived before I had even sent word.”

 

Laura looks between them briefly before deciding to leave them alone, exiting and closing the door softly behind her.

 

Matt frowns at his mother, confused.  “But how did she know you had called it off?”

 

His mother smiles.  “She didn’t.  But she certainly did stride into the grande hall like she was free to do so.”

 

Matt laughs disbelievingly as his mother continues.  “She came to fight her exile, but she made it very clear that it didn’t matter to her where she lived, how she was employed or even what her social standing was- all of that took a back seat to you.”  His mother pauses, briefly chuckling to herself.  “Honestly, I should have let her go through her whole case- I’m sure she would’ve made a rather impressive one, but the poor thing looked like she hadn’t eaten in days, so I shooed her off to have breakfast instead.”  The skin around her eyes crinkles as she smiles, “After informing her that she needn’t worry about having to leave the kingdom any longer, of course.”

 

“So she’s in the dining hall?”  Matt asks, jumping out of bed and scrambling to open his wardrobe.

 

His mother shakes her head.  “We had breakfast together, then I showed her to the library before I came here.”

 

Matt freezes.  “You had breakfast together?”

 

She nods, amusement shining in her eyes.  “I quite enjoyed telling her embarrassing stories from your childhood.”

 

Matt gasps, looking horrified.  “You didn’t!”

 

“Your soon-to-be wife sitting right in front of me?  How could I resist?”  For a moment she looks entirely too pleased before she schools her expression into one more serious.  “I’m sorry for acting on assumption before discussing the situation with you- I was doing what I thought was right at the time, but I can see that I caused you both pain and I know I’ll never be able to take that back.”

 

Matt watches as a sheen of tears appears in her eyes and immediately crushes her into a hug.  “It’s fine- everything is good now.”  He grins, thinking of Alex waiting for him just a few doors down.  “More than good, actually.”

 

His mother nods, though he can still see the regret in her eyes as she pulls back.  Moving to leave, she pauses with her hand on the doorknob.  “I canceled the festival, by the way.”  She offers him a small, hopeful smile, “I was thinking perhaps we could have a wedding instead?”

 

Matt grins, his heart feeling fit to burst.  “I have to still actually ask her first, Mother, blimey.”

 

His mother laughs.  “Well you have two days- best get to it.”  With that she leaves him to dress, a task he thinks he has never done so quickly as in this moment.  The second his boots are laced he all but flies out of his room and down the long corridor, not even pausing before entering the library.

 

“Alex,” he breathes the moment he sees her, looking resplendent in a simple green dress, her ungodly amount of hair tamed back into a long braid over her shoulder and her smile so bright it almost hurts.

 

He’s not entirely sure who reaches for the other first, but suddenly her arms are around him as he holds her tightly to him, the ache that had recently been residing in his chest suddenly dissolving.

 

“I missed you so much, sweetheart,” he whispers, closing his eyes tightly to fight off tears.

 

Her arms tighten a little more around him.  “I missed you, too, darling.”

 

Unable to resist, he seeks her lips out with his own, moving his hands to cradle her face as he kisses her, delighting in the way she melts into him, her fingers curling into his shirt.

 

When they break, he rests his forehead against hers, grinning.  “My mother says you made quite the entrance this morning.”

 

“Well someone had to come rescue you, darling.”

 

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way around, Kingston,” he grumbles.

 

Alex smiles brightly at him.  “What can I say?  I got impatient.”

 

Matt laughs, pressing another kiss to her lips and silently resolving to never be parted from her again.

 

XxX

 

She looks resplendent.  An ivory gown with gold trimming, a thin, silver crown woven amongst her curls, and the most beautiful smile on her face as his father sweeps her across the floor of the grand ballroom.

 

A hand waves in front of his face, causing him to jump.  “Honestly, Matty.  Are you going to be like this all the time now that you’re married?”

 

“Like what?”  He asks distractedly, eyes still focused on Alex.

 

Laura moves in front of him, hands on her hips and successfully blocking his view.  “Like never hearing a word I say because you’re too busy mooning over your woman.”

 

“I do not _moon_.”

 

Laura wings an eyebrow.

 

“Okay.  Maybe I half-moon.”

 

Laura snorts, and Matt opens his mouth to continue his bickering but is interrupted by his mother grabbing his hand and pulling him out to the other dancers.  “Dance with your old mum, hmm?”

 

Grinning, he takes up position and sweeps her into the dance as the music swells in a brief crescendo.

 

“The people love her already, you know,” his mother states, nodding to where Alex is, a few paces away.

 

Turning his head, he dances on autopilot as he watches Alex, who is currently partner-less and kneeling in front of a small boy who can be no more than five.  Matt watches as the boy murmurs something at the ground, Alex tilting his chin up and bopping him lightly on the nose, warm smile in place.  The boy grins shyly, looking a bit more confident as he holds out a flower. 

 

Alex leans forward, gesturing to her curls, and Matt feels his heart melt a bit as the boy carefully tucks the flower into her crown.  After giving the boy a hug that seems to leave him a bit frozen, Alex stands and curtsies.  Before giving a hasty half-bow and scurrying back to his mother, Matt catches the look of awe in the boy’s gaze- Matt grins to himself, knowing the feeling well.

 

Turning back to his mother, Matt fully refocuses on the dance, finding his mother watching him with an amused grin.  “Back with us, dear?”

 

Matt blushes and she chuckles before looking at him seriously.  “I expect to have a grandchild in nine months, Matthew.”

 

His eyes bulge, but he doesn’t have time to even think of a response to squeak out before she releases him on the next turn of the dance, nearly spinning him into Alex as she laughs and begins to dance with someone new.

 

“Alright, darling?”  Alex asks as she steadies him, letting him pull her just a fraction closer than deemed proper as he begins to dance with her.

 

“Fine,” he squeaks out.  Clearing his throat, he looks down at Alex to find her beaming up at him, a hopelessly besotted grin working its way up his face in return.  “More than fine actually.  Hello, Wife.”

 

The skin around her eyes crinkles as she laughs delightedly.  “Hello, Husband.”

 

In one week he’ll be crowned King, something that has never seemed quite as attainable as it does in this moment, despite his life’s training.  Nothing he has accomplished leading up to his coronation would have mattered had he not married- a silly, but strict rule for the crown.

 

Matt would have been completely happy with being unmarried for the rest of his life; at least, that’s what he would have told anyone who asked him two months ago. Now it’s a completely different story.  Now there’s Alex.

 

She is his constant, and marrying her was something he wanted without even a bit of a thought to the throne.  A ceremony that was a requirement for the crown turned into a personal need, him wanting to show the world that she is amazing and she is _his_ , the two of them now the start of a family and a new era to this kingdom.

 

Now that he has her, whatever happens next is only destiny.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you so much for reading! And thank you all for the wonderful comments- they always make me just want to run and write more <3
> 
> I am currently working on three prompts I received- a Spy AU, an Alchemist AU and a Much Ado AU (I love writing AUs, how did you guys know???). I have no idea which of those will be completed first, or when, but I'm working on them as fast as University and work allow. If you guys have any more prompts just let me know and I'll add them to the list!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've already finished writing it, so I'll update it sometime soon.


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